


stained glass visions

by RainShadow07



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, D/s undertones, Empath!Hannah, F/F, F/M, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, mild dub-con later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-29 16:10:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainShadow07/pseuds/RainShadow07
Summary: Pansy is losing faith in the world around her. Only an unlikely friendship keeps her going. But what happens when Pansy has to choose between her loyalties and Hannah?





	1. prelude

**Author's Note:**

> First 4 chapters originally published in 2007.

Part One

Hannah Abbott awoke with a start and sat up in her bed, sweat beading on her forehead. She looked through the gauzy yellow drapes around her bed and saw that the sun was just cresting over the tops of the trees in the forest.

It was way too early to be awake. Hannah collapsed onto her pillow and her dream came back to her. She had been flying… playing Quidditch? It had been wonderful, the wind streaming through her hair, the billow of her robes behind her, the rush of elation that came from _flying_.

This was totally bizarre. Hannah usually preferred her feet to stay firmly on the ground. She shook her head and tried to go back to sleep. The flying sensation came back to her. Sighing, she rose from bed and slipped her robes on. She plaited her long fluffy blonde hair into one braid, and slipped quietly out of the dorm, into the Hufflepuff common room.

Glancing around, she noticed that a fire had already been lit, though she was the only one up this early. She opened the main door and stepped into the corridor. Down the hall, she could smell a mouth-watering breakfast being prepared in the kitchens. She climbed up the steps that led into the Entrance Hall, and wandered over to the Great Hall. Leaning against the wide doorframe, she glanced up at the magicked roof and saw that the sky outside was clear and yellow with the dawn light. She made up her mind and crossed the room, opening the great doors a small gap and slipping through.

She breathed in the crisp air and watched her breath materialize when she breathed out. Grinning, she strolled over to the broom shed. Rays of light poked through the gaps in the wooden walls, so she could easily spot her old Comet. It hadn’t seen much use since her first year, but it still seemed in good shape. She hefted it up, examining the wood with both hands, brushing off the cobwebs in the tail. Yep, still in excellent condition. She grinned, and, grasping the handle tightly, straddled it. She kicked off the ground a little unsteadily, and rose into the air.

Though she didn’t soar effortlessly through the clouds like in her dream, the glorious feeling of the air rushed at her, past her, and she could taste it on her lips. She laughed and swooped, pulling out of it shakily. Strands of hair worked free of her braid and streamed out behind her. She spiraled among the wisps of clouds, gasping with delight. She dove again, hurtling toward the ground. She pulled up on the Comet, but it wasn’t responding fast enough. Panic fluttered in her breast as the ground rushed toward her. She pulled again, desperately. It wasn’t going to be soon enough- she was going to crash!

….

Pansy Parkinson shouldered her broom and walked out onto the pitch, the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team trudging behind her. She glanced up at the early-morning sky, appreciating for a moment its quiet loveliness. Then a swooping blonde figure caught her eye. She watched the girl fly—a little unsteady, but she recognized potential. The rest of the team caught up with her.

“Who’s that?” Draco squinted.

“Dunno,” Pansy replied, “but she’s not bad.”

Draco shrugged. “I guess.”

Vincent stared hard at the girl. “I think it’s that Hufflepuff, the one in our year.”

“Abbott,” somebody supplied.

Pansy nodded, and then watched with increasing unease as the girl went into a steep dive and struggled to pull out of it.

“She’s not going to make it,” Draco commented.

“Shit,” Pansy breathed, mounting her broom.

“Leave it,” said a seventh-year. “What do you care if she smashes herself to bits? Less competition.”

Pansy rolled her eyes and kicked off the ground, rising up to meet the falling Hufflepuff.

…

Hannah gritted her teeth, biting back a scream. She was going to crash, her body spilled across those lovely jagged rocks that happened to be in her way. She tugged with all her might, muscles straining. The rocks flew up to meet her, she opened her mouth to scream, when something caught her hard in the stomach and she was wrenched from her broomstick into the sky. She burst into tears as she watched her broom shatter far below her and clung to her rescuer, pressing her face into a soft shoulder. Pansy held one arm firmly around Hannah and flew towards the far end of the pitch, away from her teammates.

She landed softly, dismounting from her broom, depositing Hannah gently on the ground beside her. Hannah still clung to her arm, shaking. She felt like her bones had turned into jelly. She had stopped crying by now, and looked into her rescuer’s face.

“P-pansy, right?” The Slytherin nodded. “Thanks,” she said, looking into her eyes. They were very close. Pansy felt a surge of—something—slithering in her belly.

Pansy stepped away, and shrugged. Hannah finally released her grip on Pansy’s arm. “You’ve got talent,” she remarked. “Next time, be more careful. I might not be so inclined to play heroine.” With that, she mounted her broomstick again and soared off to join her team.

Hannah watched her, the adrenaline of the experience finally leaving and draining her. Gulping back fresh tears of sudden exhaustion, she made her way back to the castle as the sun rose fully onto the grounds, falling in waves of orange light around her.

…

Pansy silently berated herself as she flew back. What had happened, she shouldn’t have let happen. Oh, it was fine to have rescued the dumb Hufflepuff, she didn’t regret that. It was… that moment, that flash of attraction. Bah. She shook her head. Easy enough to forget. She landed in front of the other Slytherins.

Vincent looked at her curiously. “Why’d you do it?” he asked.

Pansy saw the rest of the team was watching her intently, waiting for her answer. “Would’ve made too much of a mess. We probably wouldn’t have been able to practice out here this early any more,” she responded truthfully, then turned away. Draco caught her eye and gave her a searching look, but she ignored him and kicked back up into the air as the team began their practice.

…

That night Hannah dreamed of flying again, and a strong but soft body. When she woke up, she wasn’t stupid enough to go flying again. And yet the dreams continued.

…

Pansy was working quietly in the library with Blaise on a project for DADA when a flash of gold caught her eye. She half-turned towards it, and realized it was the Hufflepuff, Abbott. The sun had been glinting on her hair. The girl gave a hesitant half-wave and walked to another table with a group of fellow Huffles.

Blaise looked at her accusingly. “Care to explain?”

Pansy grimaced. “The girl I saved the other day.”

“Ah,” Blaise said. “How disgustingly Gryffindor of you. Shall we call you Pansy Potter?”

“Shut up,” Pansy said moodily. She had been teased about the incident until she was about to snap. “It’s not a big deal, okay?” she said, this time more quietly.

Blaise only smirked. “Whatever,” he said, backing off.

Pansy rolled her eyes at him and went back to work.

…

Susan Bones arched an eyebrow at Hannah as they sat down with Ernie and Justin in a corner of the library. “Since when are you and Slytherin’s poster girl on waving terms?” she asked.

Hannah’s pink lips twitched into a half-smile. “Never mind, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said.

Ernie winked at her. “Oh, I see. It’s a secret.”

Justin and Susan leaned in. “Omigosh, Hannah!” Susan squealed, looking scandalized, “Is there something going _on_ between you?”

“No!” Hannah protested vehemently. “Nothing like that at all!” she laughed, feeling slightly giddy. “A couple days ago I got up early and did a bit of flying.” She grinned at their shocked faces.

“You… on a broomstick?” Justin tried to wrap his mind around the concept. “Not possible.”

“I told you you wouldn’t believe me,” Hannah said, rolling her eyes.

“But that doesn’t explain how you met Parkinson,” Ernie interjected.

“Oh, well, I think she’s on the Slytherin team now, or something. They were out there practicing.” Hannah carefully avoided any mention of her near-accident. And Pansy’s rescue… she flushed thinking about it.

Susan sat back in her chair, arms crossed. “Humph.”

Hannah shook her head, and in doing so, caught a flash of Pansy looking up at her through half-lidded eyes. Hannah quickly looked away and got down to studying for Potions, her heart pounding slightly faster than normal.


	2. beginning

A week after the incident on the Quidditch pitch, Draco, Vincent, and Gregory approached Pansy in the common room and beckoned her to follow them. With Draco in the lead, she and the other boys followed him out and down into the castle depths. They met up with Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott at a juncture, and fell into step. Draco finally stopped deep in the dungeons, in a seemingly unobtrusive dark corridor. To an outsider, Draco Malfoy would have looked perfectly calm. But to Pansy, who knew him well, he looked positively ruffled. That was when she realized… it was finally beginning.  


“The Dark Lord has need of us,” he told the group clustered around him. He grabbed Vincent and Gregory’s hands with one of his own, and in the other he caught up Pansy’s hand. He nodded at the others to watch him. With a deep intake of breathe, he slapped their hands against the stone wall next to them. Pansy’s world abruptly tilted sideways and she felt herself falling or rising, she wasn’t sure which. The gut-wrenching sensation behind her navel told her that she was caught up in a portkey—a very roughly cast portkey by the feel of things.  


After a long moment Pansy opened her eyes and found herself and the three boys sprawled out on the dirt. Shafts of dim sunlight fell about them, and Pansy realized that they were in a forest—the Forbidden Forest, most likely. Rough wood dug into her back and Pansy realized that the tree behind her must be the other portkey back to the castle. Blinking, Draco stood up and waited for the others to follow suit. Teddy and Daphne sooned joined them. Once they were all standing, he led them to a small clearing, where a man dressed in black robes awaited them. A hood was raised over his head so that his face was thrown in deep shadow. Pansy squinted, trying to figure out who was under the hood.  


The man began to speak without preamble. “In a few months our project should be in full swing. One of our operations will be executed at the school.” He nodded at the small group. “You’ll be contacted with more details when the plan becomes more concrete. The Dark Lord has not yet determined how large a part you will play in the operation. So for now, be aware, and await further orders,” he finished, and Pansy recognized that he was dismissing them. She turned and walked back to the tree, the others following behind her. Again. that wrenching feeling—then they tumbled back out into the corridor.  


Pansy left without saying a word.

@~}~~

Professor Sprout was blathering on about something in Herbology, but Pansy couldn’t bring herself to pay attention. It was Monday, the beginning of just another goddamn week to get through. She just didn’t see the point. Why bother learning about plant life, why bother trying to get good notes, when it was all going to come crashing down in a few months, anyway? She gritted her teeth together in an effort not to scream, to tell all of her stupid classmates what was going to happen. Pansy was in an advanced class for Herbology—she couldn’t remember why at the moment—so of course most of her classmates were Hufflepuffs. Warm, fuzzy, stupid-happy Hufflepuffs, with their families and their values and their love—Pansy felt bitter tears rising in her eyes and was aghast. She knew it was bad when she was getting jealous of the Huffles.  


She cradled her head in her arms and tried to block everything out. Suddenly there was movement around her—she glanced up, confused. Everyone was pairing off for something, and she had no idea what was going on. Someone placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. Pansy looked up, trying not to shiver at the contact. It was the blonde girl—Abbott.  


Looking very unsure of herself, she asked, “Do you need a partner?”  


Pansy slowly nodded. “I…missed most of the lesson, though,” she whispered as she and Abbott walked to an open station. “I’m afraid I don’t know what to do.”  


“That’s okay…I remember.” Abbott smiled at her, and Pansy’s mouth twitched in response.  


They worked mostly in silence, with Abbott occasionally directing her. Pansy began to relax, to slip into the work, and she then remembered why she was taking Herbology. It had exactly this affect on her.  


Near the end of class Abbott turned toward her. “When… did you want to get together to finish it?” she asked.  


Pansy blinked at her, nonplussed. “What?”  


“Oh. It’s a long-term project…we have to write a paper and do research on further applicable properties.”  


“It doesn’t matter,” Pansy said, again feeling that nihilism crash down around her.  


“Is Wednesday okay? In the library—after dinner?”  


“Sure.”  


Abbott studied her, and Pansy grew uncomfortable. “Are you okay?”  


“I’m fine. See you Wednesday, Ms. Abbott,” Pansy snapped gathering her things and almost, but not quite, rushing out the door.

~~{~@

Wednesday rolled around, and after dinner Hannah gathered her things and went to the library. She found an empty table and sat down. For some reason, her stomach was full of butterflies.  
Pansy showed up not long after she did, and the two got to work. Mostly, they were doing research. Occasionally, when Hannah came across something interesting, she’d share it with Pansy, who surprisingly seemed quite interested. Soon the two were engaged in deep conversation about the ethical uses of powdered unicorn horn, and what alternative ingredients produced similar effects.  


“You really have a good eye for alternatives,” Hannah remarked at one point.  


“…thanks.” Pansy said, caught off guard  


“Are you going to go into herbs or potions after Hogwarts?”  


_After Hogwarts…_ Pansy resisted the urge to laugh wildly. Something in her face must have changed because Hannah’s brow furrowed.  


“What?” she asked. “What is it?”  


Pansy blinked, and looked up into Hannah’s face. “I…”  


Hannah placed a tentative hand on her forearm. Pansy shrugged it off violently, suddenly angry. “Goddamn Hufflepuffs! You’re so fucking touchy-feely! It’s none of your business.”  


Hannah’s face crumpled. _Oh God,_ thought Pansy, _don’t tell me she’s gonna start crying._ But she didn’t. “I—sorry.” she said, gathering up her things. “I think I better go.”  


Pansy swallowed a sigh, and watched the blonde Hufflepuff walk away.


	3. we apologize for the inconvenience. and the screaming.

Pansy did not sleep well that night. At around three am she was awakened by a soft knock.  


“Come in,” she called, sitting up. The door opened, and Daphne’s green-grey eyes peeked through the crack. Pansy beckoned her in. Once the door was closed, she placed an extra layer of silencing charm on her bedroom, then motioned Daphne into one of the two upholstered chairs. There were definite perks to being a prefect. Pansy conjured up two mugs, one of tea, the other of hot chocolate, and handed the latter to Daphne. She sat down across from her red-haired friend and waited. She didn’t have to wait long.  


Daphne raised the mug to her lips and took a sip, then, hands visibly shaking, placed the mug carefully on the table between them. Pansy tried to look reassuring. Daphne looked decidedly un-reassured.  


“Daphne,” she threatened, “you wake me up at three in the morning, you better want something more than cocoa.”  


Daphne nodded, and her eyes turned a stormy grey that threatened rain. She fisted her shaking hands into her robes. “I don’t think I want to do this.”  


“Do what?” asked Pansy, deliberately leading.  


“This! It! Him!” the other girl said vehemently.  


“I know.”  


“Do you? Do you??” Daphne’s voice was reaching a hysterical pitch, and, even though Pansy was aware of the multiple silencing charms stacked around them, she still made a shushing motion. Daphne obediently lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “I can’t stand this, Pansy. Like just because we’re pureblooded we have to accept this. I’ve seen what He did to my family. He’s been gone almost all my life and his marks are all over my life…” she sobbed.  
Pansy waited for her to stop crying. “Listen to me Daphne. This isn’t about school, or boys, or family any more. It’s about _survival_. And you better be careful who you tell these kinds of things to.” At Daphne’s horrified look, she hurriedly added, “not me, you idiot! I’ll never sell you out, because, and here, now we’re even, I hate it too.”  


“You don’t seem like you do,” Daphne sniffled doubtfully.  


“You may not believe me, but it’s the truth. And I don’t know what else to tell you except, toughen up. I don’t see any way out of this thing, not once it’s started. If you see a way out that I don’t, then, by all means, take it. But you have to think about the repercussions. What He’d do to your family if you disobeyed them and Him. Where would you go? That old fool who calls himself Headmaster?” Pansy shook her head.  


Daphne chewed on her fingernail. “I know you’re right,” she whispered, standing up to leave. “But this really, really sucks.”  


“Just remember one thing,” she told Daphne as she began to close her door. “Survive.”

@}--}---

The next evening, Hannah was again in the library, working alone to finish the Herbology project. Her expression was drawn and pinched as she diligently scrawled facts onto the parchment. She tensed when a figure blocked the light. Glancing up, she saw it was Pansy. She didn’t say anything, just kept working on the paper. Pansy sat down beside her, perusing the scrolls and tomes scattered across the table. Taking out her quill, she wet it and began writing notes on a scrap of parchment.  


“Did you know that if you drink the blood of a unicorn, it will save you from the brink of death?” Hannah said, breaking the silence. Pansy nodded, and Hannah continued, “but it’s debatable whether or not that life will be worth it, afterward.”  


“Would you ever? Drink it?” Pansy asked, carefully not looking at her lab partner.  


Hannah considered the question, tilting her chin up slightly. “I suppose…if the situation called for it.”  


Pansy turned towards her, surprised. “The situation being…?”  


“If I could save someone I cared about by drinking the blood, I would.”  


Pansy scoffed audibly.  


“Would you?”  


“No.”  


They worked in silence for several minutes. Pansy kept waiting for the Hufflepuff girl to ask her _why_. Finally, Hannah stretched, her hands pulled high over her head, arching her back. Pansy surreptitiously watched. Hannah opened her mouth to speak, and Pansy silently congratulated herself. But it was not the expected question. “I need a break. I’m going to take a walk.” She stood, and gazed at her partner. “Are you coming?” Pansy met her glance and held it. Without taking her eyes from Hannah’s, she stood. Hannah bit her lip, and turned away before Pansy could see her blush.  


Hannah bypassed the greenhouses, taking a winding path that led past Hagrid’s hut, where punctured crates were stacked, presumably for the next Care of Magical Creatures class. It was almost twilight, almost time for dinner, and Pansy was almost startled when Hannah entered into the forest.  


“Just a little ways in, you can still see the school,” Hannah said reassuringly.  


“Like I care?” Pansy snapped back. Their feet crunched on the carpet of dry pine needles.  


Hannah seated herself on a mostly horizontal, mossy log. “Of course you don’t,” Hannah said. “You’re a big scary Slytherin. How could I forget?”  


Pansy sneered at her and leaned up against a tree. She reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a small box. She pressed a cigarette in between her lips and muttered a spell around it. The tip flared and then died to an ember, and Pansy took a deep, satisfying drag.  


“It relaxes you.” Hannah said. It was not a question, but Pansy, willing to be charitable now that she felt marginally more in control, nodded. Hannah wrinkled her nose. “Well, it smells foul.”  


Pansy shrugged, the rough wood of the tree scraping her back. She stared upwards, through the branches of the tree, at the slowly dimming sky. The air had a full, thick quality to it, like everything had slowed down to a manageable pace. The light continued to die, and the ember of Pansy’s receding cigarette seemed both hard and harsh against the soft growing darkness. “How’s the flying been going?” she asked dreamily, caught up in the quiet mood of the place.  


“Ah,” said the other girl softly, “I can’t seem to get back onto a broom.”  


Frowning, Pansy shifted her gaze earthward, blue eyes glaring an unspoken question.  


Hannah’s mouth quirked. “I could say, you know, that I just haven’t had the time, but…” her voice dropped to a whisper, and Pansy had to lean in to catch all of it, “truth is, I’m scared to.” She coughed as tendrils of Pansy’s cigarette smoke wound around her head. Pansy sucked one last drag off, then dropped the cigarette, crushing it into the pine needles with her booted foot.  


“I’ll help you,” Pansy offered.  
 _Abbott looks shocked,_ Pansy thought, _and so probably do I._  


“You…will?” Hannah stood, her tone skeptical.  


“I…” Pansy floundered for a moment. _Merlin girl, keep it together!_ “I said I would, didn’t I?” she said harshly. “Saturday morning. Be on the pitch at six.” Pansy stalked off, leaving Hannah in the shadowy edges of the wood.  


Pansy went into the Great Hall, and headed for the Slytherin table. _I didn’t even give her a chance to say yes._ She seated herself between Draco and Daphne, shaking her head, trying to somehow shake the clinging heaviness, and then stood right back up. “The herbology project,” she said aloud, starting to extricate herself from the bench. Draco yanked on her sleeve, unbalancing her, and she landed hard on the wooden bench.  


“Leave it,” said one of the boys, probably Teddy.  


“I left Abbott to do it all in the library-“ she said unthinkingly.  


“Perfect, then,” said Daphne, at her left.  


“Right, yes, you’re right.” Pansy said, recovering, and smiled wickedly. “Guess she’ll just have to finish it herself.”

\---{--{@

Pansy sighed and shifted on her chair, rubbing her eyes and trying to get through her Transfiguration notes.  


Across the room, Draco caught her eye and his face, she knew, mirrored her own. Draco jerked his head at the door, raising his eyebrows questioningly. Pansy dumped the scrolls in her lap onto the floor. Daphne looked at her questioningly. “Fuck it,” she announced/muttered, sulking out of the common room, Draco close behind her.  


Once they were a fair bit away from the Slytherin dorm, Draco rounded on her.  


“What is going on?” he hissed, his aristocratic features pinched in annoyance—or maybe worry.  


Pansy slouched against the wall. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said carefully, her face a blank mask.  


“You can’t play coy with me, Pansy, I’ve known you too long,” he said softly.  


“You know what’s going on.”  


“Stop being so fucking overdramatic.”  


Pansy gave him a cold stare. _“Overdramatic?”_  


Draco matched her stare. “You heard me. You’re out of it, half the time like you’re… daydreaming, the other half like it’s already post-apocalypse.”  


Pansy finally had to glance away. Staring at the bleak stones at their feet, she said, “What’s the point? I mean, really? Why _bother?_ Tell me that, and I’ll stop being… ‘overdramatic.’”  


Draco shrugged. “There’s no answer to it. You know that.”  


They were silent for a long moment, and Pansy had time to reflect on… how different things had turned out. Her expectations had been candy-coated. Here she was, standing in a hallway with Draco Malfoy, who was supposed to be her fiancé but was in reality, her best friend. And that was it. It was supposed to be the other way around. What had happened?  


“How do you deal with it?” she finally asked, raising her head to meet his eyes.  


“I don’t. I don’t think about it. I just live from day to day. I play Quidditch, I do my work. I live.”  


“I can’t do that,” she said, simply.  
Draco regarded her for a moment, and she wondered if he was having thoughts similar to the ones she had just had.  


“I know. But stop acting so nihilistic in front of everyone. I’m not saying you can’t feel nihilistic, just don’t—“  


“Yes, yes. I _am_ a Slytherin, remember?”  


“Right. How could I forget.” Draco rolled his eyes. “Oh, and one other thing. Stop torturing the Hufflepuffs.”  


“I’ll do whatever I damn please with her!” Pansy said, defenses up.  


Draco blinked. “What the fuck?”  


Pansy breathed out. “Damn it. Just got someone on my mind, I guess.”  


“The Abbott girl,” he said with a knowing smirk.  


“Don’t go there, Draco,” she said darkly.  


He didn’t.


	4. such a filthy dimming shine

Friday afternoon, at the beginning of Herbology, Pansy watched Abbott hand in their assignment without so much as a glare in Pansy’s direction. Just handed it in to Professor Sprout, with both their names clearly written in Hannah’s fluid script. Hannah’s green eyes searched her out, found her in the back of the classroom. For a moment their gazes locked and it seemed to her that Abbott’s eyes darkened, glinted with _something_ \- but then it was gone and Abbott was seating herself next to Pansy, just like that. Like it was so _easy_ \- It made part of her ache with an alien need, startling, unknown, heavy, and then gone just as soon as it manifested.

Next to her, Abbott tensed, let out a slow deliberate breath, and then let her body relax. Pansy absently noticed that Abbott had laid her arm across the desk close to her own, and that she could actually feel faint heat emanating from the other girl. Pansy swallowed, closed her eyes, tried not to think about that heat, tried not to feel guilty for leaving Abbott to finish the project. She only succeeded in one of them.

@~}~~

Saturday morning saw Pansy on the steps of the great hall. It was brisk; she was wearing a heavy robe, a pink woolen scarf wound hastily around her neck. She had already finished her cigarette by the time the doors opened slightly and Hannah’s blonde head emerged.

“Morning!” Hannah said brightly, then stopped and studied Pansy.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “What?”

“It’s just… you’re wearing pink. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you wear pink.”

“I like pink!” Pansy said defensively. Though it was true, this year she’d taken to wearing black and not much else, aside from her tie, which was of course, Slytherin green. Hannah’s mouth quirked, and Pansy huffed a sigh.

“Quit stalling, Abbott. Time for you to get back on a broom.” Pansy reached out and grabbed the other girl’s sleeve, then headed for the broom shed.

“I’m not stalling,” Hannah muttered mutinously, and stuck her tongue out at Pansy. Pansy merely raised one elegant eyebrow in obvious skepticism. At the broom shed, Hannah put her hands on her hips as she surveyed the selection of brooms, frowning. “I still haven’t replaced my broom,” she said, brow furrowing slightly. “Guess we’ll have to call this off til I get a new one…”

“Nice try,” Pansy said dryly, “But we can use mine,” she said, reaching for her Nimbus, a little outdated but still perfectly respectable.

Together they walked to the pitch. Pansy laid the broom on the ground, then nodded at Hannah. “Okay, mount up.” Hannah stood over the broom, and called it up into the air. It hovered unsteadily in front of her. Grasping the handle, Hannah nervously swung her leg over so that she was seated on it, Quidditch style. Pansy assessed her with a critical eye. She walked over to Hannah. “Well, first of all, your grip is off,” she said, moving Hannah’s hands farther apart. “If you have your hands too close together, you lose some of the fine control that you might need, oh, say, if your broom goes into a steep dive.” She gave Hannah a pointed look and was rewarded by a slight blush. “Posture is important, as well,” Pansy continued, “If you sit upright, you’ll drag more. The less resistance you offer, the better.” She adjusted Hannah’s posture so that the girl was bent over the broom.

“This is uncomfortable,” Hannah stated.

“That’s because you have your hips too far up. Scoot back,” Pansy directed. Hannah complied, and Pansy circled the hovering girl. She nodded in approval, then climbed up behind Hannah. “Take us up,” she said, not missing the tension in the other girl. Abbott was definitely apprehensive.

Shakily, they rose up into the air and circled the pitch, Pansy calling directions into Hannah’s ear. Gradually Hannah’s fear lessened, her muscles relaxed, and she leaned back against Pansy, laughing as Pansy directed them to swoop and whirl around the pitch. Pansy couldn’t help it, she laughed with Hannah. Startled, Hannah twisted around to look at her, and they went into a shallow dive, zipping across the grounds. Pansy leaned forward and put her hands over Hannah’s, which had turned white with tension. Pansy eased them out of the dive, then pulled them around to the shore of the lake, where they came to a gentle stop two feet above the ground.

Pansy’s arms were still around the other girl, Hannah’s back pressed up snugly against her chest. Pansy tried to ignore the adrenaline flooding through her—it was the flying that had exhilarated her, not the close proximity of Abbott, really—when she realized said girl was shaking. Pansy shifted back, peeling her hands off of the handle and wrapped them around Hannah’s waist to keep her balance. Hannah half-turned and leaned against her, shivering, her head down and pressed against Pansy’s shoulder. She was so soft and warm and obviously frightened that Pansy felt a strange thrill run though her. She simultaneously felt the need to protect the fragile innocence in her arms, and to ruin it completely, to rip the Hufflepuff apart with harsh words and actions so that no one else would be able to experience this, this exquisite vulnerability.

_I’m comforting a Hufflepuff,_ thought Pansy, horrified with herself. Thankfully, Hannah chose that moment to pull away from Pansy and slide of the broom. She staggered over to a formation of rocks that bordered this part of the lake and leaned against them for support. 

After a moment, Pansy dismounted as well and joined her, broomstick in hand. Still angered by her behavior, Pansy grabbed Abbott’s wrist tightly with her free hand, pressing her back against the rocks and getting into her space. Hannah’s breathing hitched, and she shrank back against the rock.

“Listen to me,” Pansy half-growled. “I am not a nice person. I am not going to hold your hand every time you get scared. I won’t coddle you.”

“I’m not asking you to!” Hannah responded indignantly.

Pansy nodded, then backed off. “Fine. Good. As long as you understand that. Lesson’s over.” She turned her back on Hannah and began walking back towards the castle.

“See you next Saturday!” Hannah called to her. Pansy nodded, not bothering to turn around.

 

…

 

Hannah waited until Pansy had gone back inside before she followed at a slower pace. She paid no attention to the scenery, lost in thought. Why had Pansy suddenly become so angry? And Hannah knew that Pansy hadn’t been angry with her, she’d been angry with herself. Hannah shook her head irritably and tried to analyze what her fledgling empathy skills had told her. She’d felt Pansy’s emotions shift after they’d landed next to the lake. Had Hannah been too close to her? That didn’t make sense; they’d been that close while on the broom. She thought back to what Pansy had said… and suddenly it clicked into place. Pansy wasn’t used to being sympathetic, it had probably made her uncomfortable. And yet, the feelings coming off Pansy were so intricately woven it was difficult to read them all. There had definitely been some kind of protectiveness, simultaneously mixed with a sudden lust for domination. Butterflies shivered in her stomach at the thought.

Hannah drew up short outside the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room—two people were outside, but it was hard to discern who, since they were making out and completely entangled against the corridor wall. She tried to edge around them discreetly, but one of them gasped, and they sprang apart. In front of her was none other than Justin Finch-Fletchley. She tried to hide a grin but couldn’t.

“Morning, Justin, and, er…” she turned to Justin’s companion, and blinked. It was a red-headed girl, a Slytherin in her year.

“Daphne,” the girl supplied nervously. Too nervously. She was terrified. Justin coughed, and she looked at him.

“Hi, Hannah,” he said, his trademark imperialism giving way to embarrassment.

“And here I thought you fancied blokes,” Hannah said wryly. He gave a startled laugh. Daphne nudged him.

“Um… Hannah. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind not mentioning this to anyone,” he said, gesturing to himself and Daphne. “We’re trying to be discreet.” Hannah bit back another smile, and nodded.

“Please,” Daphne interjected desperately. “Don’t tell anyone.” Hannah nodded again, her playful manner dissipating. “Of course.” Daphne looked somewhat reassured.

“So… Hannah… what are you doing up so early?” Justin asked, trying to dispel the awkwardness.

“I was actually out flying, with Pansy.”

Their eyes widened comically. “Pansy _Parkinson_?” Daphne asked.

Hannah nodded. “Flying lessons.”

Daphne chewed on a fingernail. “Um. Abb-Hannah. Be careful, okay?”

“What do you mean?” Hannah asked, her brow furrowing.

“Pansy’s… not the kind of person you want to be close to,” Daphne said guardedly.

Hannah rolled her eyes. “I’ll be the judge of that, thanks. See you later,” she said stiffly, then gave the password, and went into the common room and up to her room. Thankfully, since she was a Prefect she no longer had to share a room with Susan and the other girls. She wasn’t up to dealing with their questions at the moment.

~~{~@

The next week proceeded in much the same way as the last had. Pansy struggled to remain focused in class. Abbott tried to catch her eye a few times in their Advanced Potions class, but Pansy pointedly ignored her. Quidditch practice was less than successful, and made Draco extremely frustrated. After one such practice, Pansy stalked off to the library, allegedly to study, but mostly because she needed some space. Abbott was there, with some of her Hufflepuff friends. The blonde didn’t notice her, but one her friends did, a dark-haired mudblood with a pretentious attitude. He glared at her, so Pansy sneered back at him. She checked out a heavy tome for Advanced Trasnfiguration, then left before anyone else could notice her.

She’d entered the dungeons, and was heading back towards the common room when three figures suddenly blocked her way, one in front of her and two behind her. They backed her into a side corridor. Pansy’s book dropped with a thump as she reached for her wand. Someone plucked it from her hand.

“What the _fuck,_ ” she exclaimed.

“Uh uh, Pansy darling,” a feminine voice tsked. Tracey Davis. Great. Which meant Millicent Bulstrode was probably the other girl. Pansy was roughly shoved against the wall by someone tall and obviously male. Oh, and that scent… “Get off me, Cognevoc,” she snarled. Evan Cognevoc, seventh year and her former fling, smirked at her.

“C’mon Parkinson, you used to beg me for this,” he said. His body kept hers pinned to the wall, while his hands groped her breasts.

“Knock it off,” she growled.

“Don’t you remember, Evan? She’s a dyke now, she only likes fucking girls,” Millicent’s shrill voice said tauntingly.

“I’m a Prefect,” she reminded them, struggling against Evan’s grip. “I can-“

Millicent laughed. “Whatcha going to do, deduct points?” The others laughed, too, and Evan brought his face close to hers.

“That true, Pansy?” he asked, “You like to eat pussy now?” He viciously pinched a nipple, causing her to gasp and, to her horror, buck up. They all laughed again. “No, see? Still a slut, after all.”

“Mmm, maybe we should-“

“What the fuck is going on here?” A voice interrupted. Pansy sagged in relief. She’d never been so happy to hear that characteristic drawl. They backed away from her, and Pansy saw Draco brandishing his wand at them. Pansy grabbed her own wand and straightened her robes. She joined Draco, leveling her wand at them as well.

“Just having a bit of fun, Malfoy,” Tracey simpered.

“Like hell you were!” Pansy growled.

“We just wanted to ask Pansy some questions. But now that you’re here, I bet you can help,” Evan said, his voice irritatingly calm.

Draco arched an eyebrow. “Oh really.”

“Yes,” said Tracey eagerly. “We want to know, when is the Dark Lord going to contact us? We’ve been faithful, we can show him-“

Pansy laughed. “I wouldn’t hold your breath. What would the Dark Lord want with pathetic idiots like you?”

They glared at her. “Get lost,” Draco snarled. “Before I change my mind and report you for assaulting a Prefect.” Evan brushed past them, and the other two followed him.

Pansy grabbed the book she’d dropped, then turned and faced Draco. “You okay?” he asked, sounding tired.

She took a deep breath, then blew it out. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He paused, then added quietly, “God, Pansy. You really need to learn when to keep your mouth shut.”

Pansy pressed a hand against her forehead. “Whatever,” she said, but privately she thought that this time, Draco might be right.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm challenging myself to finish this fic! Please let me know what you think, I appreciate feedback + love :)


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